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I know. I know, I get it, it’s okay, you don’t have to tell me anymore. Subaru doesn’t make the Escort. Ford makes the Escort. Now, I do wish that my demonstration of How Not to Change a Minor Detail in a book was a clever object lesson for new writers, but alas, it’s simply a mistake. In The Kiss that Counted, Karita is noted as having both models of car. I originally decided the car was an Escort – the epitome of a workhorse vehicle chosen for its economy and not much else. It would be what Karita could afford; her financial realities include a radio that doesn’t pick up a station when the car is pointed due north and a house that no longer sits plumb to its foundation. Later, I changed my mind and chose a Subaru because you can’t swing the proverbial cat in Colorado without hitting a Subaru-driving lesbian. I thought I caught the few places where the make of the car was mentioned. Obviously, I missed one. On page 12. That kind of mistake is the type that haunts a writer, that’s for sure. It’s been a while since I confused the melody of …